


Halloween Maid

by Grimmy88



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:05:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimmy88/pseuds/Grimmy88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellis receives the wrong Halloween costume to Nick's pleasure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halloween Maid

                So apparently holidays had become the norm when he and Ellis got together. Not just the expected ones like Christmas and Thanksgiving that you just expect when you enter into a relationship which were undeniably easier to deal with than any of the others. Those two were ingrained in Nick from birth because they’d been the two his step mother had enjoyed the most.

            It was the others—New Years, Valentine’s day, St. Patrick’s day, Easter, Halloween (and any of those random day’s dedications)—that he’d been slow to participate. And yeah, he’d taken advantage of New Years to go out to the bars and enjoy himself, but he couldn’t remember caring about the countdown when there’d been a willing body against his own.

            And he was sure in his younger years he’d donned costumes and ran around his neighborhood collecting bars of chocolate addiction and over-sugared treats. It was probably a time when he’d enjoyed the tinge his cheeks adopted from the October breeze because he’d worn it like a badge of immature courage, a quiet ‘I’m better than you’ to the other children who’d gone inside with their bags only half full or the ones who’d ruined their costumes by covering their Superman logos with jackets.

            But Nick had always been fast to grow up and the moment the Christmas myths were Christmas lies there hadn’t been a point in running around in a costume pretending to be a superhero or a gangster.

            When Halloween rolled around two years after he’d begun his relationship with Ellis (and society decided their kids deserved to be young again) he was certain the hick had never wanted to outgrow his inner child.

            This was all apparent as Nick sat on Annalynne’s porch, watching her son scramble here and there to make the house as ghoulish as its yellow coating would allow.

            He drank a beer through it all and marveled at the warmth an October up north had never given him. However when his seat on the porch swing was commandeered by a pillowed pseudo-werewolf Ellis informed him the house was finished.

            So, obligated, the gambler stood in front of his partner’s childhood home to take in the sight.

            “It’ll be better when it’s dark,” Ellis assured. “Then we’ll have lights all over makin’ it scary.”

            It wasn’t as bad as the hillbilly’s apologizing made it; it looked fake, sure, but it wasn’t any better or any worse than other hauntingly decorated houses during the season. The lawn was strewn with plastic grave markers, one of which was the resting place for a painfully obvious falsely decaying hand with its fingers curled, grasping at nothing above the surface of the ground.

            The bushes were covered with thick, stretching cobwebs that were graced with a pipe cleaner-legged spider that, if real, could probably hook its legs around a man’s torso and gnaw out his ribcage. On the porch above them was the seat-stealer and, supposedly, in the days leading up to the actual holiday, pumpkins with ragged, jagged faces.

            He’d dangled what he claimed were orange and green lights here and there as accents to the horror and hanging above these were ghostly gimmicks of sound-respondent phantoms that booed and ooed at excited children’s cackling laughter. Above it all was an exceptionally long specter that dangled from the meeting where their roof pointed.

            His mouth was open in a black and red-dyed scream, its too-gray hands reminiscent of claws in front of it, its dangling strips of cloth reached well past the window six feet below it.

            It was pretty charming. And compared to the rest of the neighborhood: a lot of work.

            He would’ve commented on its frivolousness but the answer would probably just be a simple, honest statement that he was doing it to give the brats of his neighborhood a good time. He really didn’t feel like being torn between the burst of fondness in his chest and the nausea in his head.

 

            The week leading up to Halloween produced Ellis’ promised jack o’ lanterns which the older man did not have fun making. Not when the damn seeds got everywhere and he’d been forced to fish them out from within the stringy innards with his hands.

            Also Nick’s creation looked like shit, but that was besides the point.

            The week leading up to Halloween also produced Ellis’ ordered costume. It included a mask and a cape so that the hick could cover himself up and remain sitting next to the fake werewolf on the porch so he could ‘greet’ the kids.

            Annalynne had found it on the porch before leaving to buy more candy for those that would be hunting it in a week (as Ellis and his grandfather had been hunting it all month long). And, as mothers do, she encouraged her son to try it on and make sure it fit.

            Which ultimately led to the current fifteen minutes and going of the kid’s absence.

            At the top of the stairs Nick was greeted with a closed and probably locked door. Annalynne’s wolf of a dog rested in front of it. Bull lifted his head, however, as the wood comprising the top step creaked under the conman’s weight.

            Appeasing the dog with one hand, Nick let the fingers of the other tap at the door.

            “Yeah?”

            “Get your dick caught in the zipper?” Ellis didn’t answer so Nick tried again: “Doesn’t fit right?”

            “…It ain’t the right costume.”

            “Yeah? Well which one is it?”

            The door opened and Nick wasn’t sure which reacted first: his bulging eyes or a grin so wide it hurt his cheeks to don it.

             It was a woman’s costume.

            Okay, it had a cape, maybe that’s what threw the kid off when he’d originally bought it. Maybe the leather pants—the tight leather pants—hadn’t registered as ‘gay sex kink’ in his impish mind.

            But a corset? How was here any mistaking that? It was black, possibly faux leather with the boning the only marring on its even surface.

            Ellis hadn’t tightened it, of course, and now he was smoothing his hands over it. He was babbling something about how with the other parts of the costume it was supposed to be scary or gothic or something and how it had been modeled by both a man and a woman on the site.

            And, sure, whatever the brat needed to tell himself but Nick was almost certain if he explored his laptop’s history he’d find some very interesting websites.

            Nick moved in so he could close the door behind him although he certainly wasn’t paying attention to what his hands were doing behind him. His eyes were busy on the cape, wrapped around Ellis’ hips, hiding where the bottom of the corset and the hem of his pants supposedly met.

            He told Ellis to turn, interrupting the jumbled words that hadn’t finished stumbling out of his mouth. The expression on the hick’s face, the half-opening ‘why’ of his mouth wasn’t vocalized upon, however, and he went easily enough when Nick put his hands on him.

            He clipped off the cape first, let it pool between their feet to reveal the loose ties of the corset which was far too small for his lover.

            He began to tighten it anyway.

            There was nothing drastic about it; he wasn’t melodramatic like all the movies or shows he’d scene. He tightened it so that the material was just up against his skin. At the bottom he made a tight knot firm enough to keep it in place.

            Ellis’ head was bowed and his color was flushed well into where his hair met neck.

            Nick pulled him upright with searching hands feeling where the outlines of Ellis muscles strained against the garment. Through the searching he found where the corset fell short, allowing the kid’s hips to peek from between it and his pants.

            He traced the free skin with the tips of his fingers, the drag of his nails before applying more pressure with the pads of said digits.

            Ellis, well trained by this point to Nick’s amusement, allowed his body to be persuaded back when the hands pulled and tightened and squeezed and controlled.

            The gambler slipped his fingers under the leather hem and when they failed to go far enough consented to having to drag the fly down and then peel the skin-fitting clothing down one pale-to-tan leg at a time.

            Ellis wasn’t wearing underwear and he wasn’t as hard as the moment demanded. Understandable, considering how naïve and conservative the kid had probably been before he realized he liked cocks (or Nick’s cock, as he’d retorted).

            So he took the more responsive of the brat’s heads into his mouth to shut the other one up.

            Nick rolled his tongue over it, worried the mushroom shape, and slicked over its small opening. Shuddered breath ghosted at his hair from above. When firm hands fell a few moments later he took more of the length, teasing it just to his throat and no further. It proved to be enough after being ushered back and forth only a few times to find his lover at rigid hardness and yearning to go deeper into his throat.

            Not wanting to be choked, Nick backed away and replaced his mouth with his hand. For his part Ellis didn’t seem to really care as long as there was any sort of friction rubbing between his legs.

            The ex-con didn’t stand immediately; he wanted to kiss the skin that had been peeking out before from just underneath the corset. And if he stopped the stroking of his hand it was only because he wanted them both free to hold the sides of the corset, to press it into the sleekness of the younger man’s waist so that he could watch the way the faux leather moved and displayed empty at the top, unfilled and so unfitting.

            Moving it this right way revealed the darker color of Ellis’ nipples, and it was too appealing: hard and half-kept away.

            He made him go back first onto the bed with his arms stretched back. His pectorals stretched as well over the slight curve that had been shielding them. Nick kissed and licked at the edge of it, catching flesh and corset and nipples with his lips and tongue, leaving them both wet and shining in the bedroom’s light.

            Ellis turned his head when Nick got to his throat, allowing himself to be marred. The older man was almost reluctant to move on. When he did sit back, however, blue eyes glared at him.

            “Wouldjya kiss me already?” Frustration.

            Nick, tempted by the prospect of teasing the redneck, found the question had apparently been rhetorical as evidenced by the way he was pulled atop the thinner, younger body below his own.

            Ellis mouthed hungrily at him, replacing any low finesse Nick had established with greedy, thrusting, young lust. When their tongues slid together the conman let their hips. When their lips opened apart so did Ellis’ legs.

            Nick followed the lines of the material down again and then dipped his touch onto the soft skin around the flushed cock and then down below it further to where thigh and ass connected. He smoothed his palm over the area, drank in his partner’s breath through it all.

            He trailed his fingers inward, let them touch and push into the skin before he pulled the round expanses of Ellis’ ass apart and then back together so he could repeat it again.

            The southerner’s hips stuttered against him, canting upwards and searching. And although he was still fully dressed, when their cocks brushed the slightest of touches over each other he’d had to remind himself that, yes, they now owned this corset and that, yes, holding out to enjoy it was becoming a rapidly stupid idea.

            He collected their lube and discarded his clothes in probable record time. Ellis reached forward from between his own open legs awkwardly to rub his hands over the top of Nick’s stomach and his ribs and his nipples. The northerner leaned to it for a moment before deciding he’d rather be touching as well.

            He was hot inside, he always was; hot and wet and crushingly enveloping, as if he’d wanted to coax and milk everything he could out of the gambler. It was aggravating, purely intoxicating, and it only meant he had to wait even longer to prepare him.

            Ellis closed his eyes when Nick pressed in. It was a habit from their first few trysts, one that he’d thankfully shed. His eyes opened after the first thrust.

            They don’t kiss, and not because they don’t want to. It’s because of the reduced flexibility of the hick by the corset and the possible fact that neither was going to last very long.

            Nick ran his hand down and against Ellis’ dick which was at upright attention on his lower stomach. Nick murmured something then along the lines of how good his younger lover looked, how hot he was inside, how he wished it would last.

            But as soon as he circled his fingers around the straining length he’d been teasing Ellis was already crying and leaking out his orgasm.

            The conman milked him through it, slowed down the wet slaps of his thrusting into a silent grinding roll of his hips. Ellis’ groaned and gasped and contracted and Nick had to clamp his jaw tight to keep his own pleasure from slipping forth.

            When Ellis opened his eyes again, pure blue looking him straight on, did he give in.

            He pulled out and straddled and moved and jerked so that his first shot fell over the right side of Ellis’ mouth and chin. The second aimed and fell lower onto his upper chest and corset. The rest stained bright against the dark faux leather.

            He took his place next to Ellis and closed his eyes so he could focus on his breathing.

            “Can’t return it now,” Ellis stated.

            Nick laughed. “I wouldn’t have let you; that’s the best money you’ve ever spent on a stupid holiday.”

            “Oh, good, ‘cause I used yer card’ta pay.”


End file.
